Beyond the North Seas
by hanadee
Summary: Among the vikings, there are many who have been favored by the gods. A young woman - rumored to have been born of the sea, descended from the gods - is brought to Kattegat where her fate becomes intertwined with those of Ragnar and his family. Will the gods protect her as she heads West, forward to the future with the legendary farmer and his rising son? (BjornxOC)
1. Chapter 1

This chapter is intended as a prequel to introduce an Original Character who becomes entwined with the lives of Ragnar and his friends and family, especially his son Bjorn Ironside. I please beg any readers to bear with me through this first installment.

This story begins in season two between the episodes "Unforgiven" and "Blood Eagle". In my story, Lagertha is not the only Earl to answer Ragnar's call for allies after he has arrested Jarl Borg.

While this story will, for the most part, follow season 2 and 3, I will veer from cannon.

Furthermore, I want to preface this by saying that I am not a historian nor an expert in Viking/Norse history so my story is based more off of the representation of Vikings presented in the show than anything else.

Any and all characters not created by myself are the property of the wonderfully gifted Michael Hirst.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

 **Chapter One – Origins**

" _Njord is a great god, and one of the oldest." The woman would always say to the young girl as she lay curled in her lap._

" _He is god of the sea. He is able to calm rough waters and if he so chooses, he can save our ships that are in distress. When a favorable wind blows, it is because of him. Father to Freyr and Freyja, he is also our father. He provides us good fortune if he so wishes it upon us."_

 _The woman stroked the girl's hair, soft in her young years. Her heart ached, wishing that this child was of her womb._

" _Asta, do you know who gave you to me?" The child shook her head, even though she had heard this story many times from the woman._

" _Njord himself gave you to me. He safely carried you from the depths of the sea during winter storms where you were found on the sea-beach and brought to me." The woman gently tickled the child's belly, causing her to giggle. "Everyone was so surprised when you brought to our hall, but I was not. Do you know why?"_

 _The girl shook her head once more. "Tell me!" she begged the woman._

" _I knew you were coming because the völvas at Uppsala told me, years before I married the Jarl, that you were coming. They prophesized that the sea would bring me the child that my womb could not and that this child would be favored by the gods." The woman pressed a kiss to the child's forehead, as she held her slight form tightly in her arms._

" _You are touched by the gods, sweet child. I pray you never doubt that."_

Whether it was believed, scorned or laughed at - Asta's story, the story of the Orphan of Gävle, was as well known by her as it was by freemen and slaves alike. _The child touched by the gods, the child of the sea_

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

After a thunderous winter storm, a newborn babe was found washed ashore on the sea-beaches of Gävle by a poor fisherman. In unforgiving conditions that would fell a strong warrior, the baby was not harmed, untouched by sea and cold alike. Believing this child, this baby girl, to have been spat out of the sea by the gods, the fisherman brought the babe to the great hall of Jarl Kjell.

When the fisherman entered the hall, there was a great feast. Jarl Kjell, the most powerful and prosperous Jarl of Svealand, sat at his seat of power while his second wife, the first having died birthing his fifth and last son, sat by his side. Kjell would have dismissed the fisherman with his fussing babe as he sought an audience had it not been for his wife, Brynyja. Having been unable to bear any children in the several years they had been married, she urged her husband to entertain the fisherman.

As the hall was quieted down, the fisherman recounted the story of how he found the babe. _She was found like the giant Bor found two pieces of wood on the sea-beaches, the pieces of wood that Odin and his brothers Vili and Ve breathed life into to create Ask and Embla, the first man and woman. Like Embla, this child was given life by the gods who birthed her from the sea_ , his voice rang out causing much whispers to erupt amongst the crowd.

Kjell laughed a deep booming laugh of disbelief. _Am I to believe that this child is descended from gods? It is more likely that you lain with a slave and wish to push your burden off on to my household, is it not?_

The fisherman beseeched the Jarl that the child was not his own, that what he had said was the truth as his voice was drowned out in laughter and insults thrown his way. The fisherman and the babe were sent away.

But Brynyja did believe the man's story for many years ago the sacred völvas at Uppsala had prophesized that the gods would have the sea give her barren womb a child. For three days she begged her husband to find the baby. On the fourth day, the Jarl sent men to the fishing hovels and the babe was brought back to the hall. However, as an orphan, the girl could not be seen as equals to his sons and Kjell insisted that she be raised amongst the servants, raised to serve his family. And so was the babe's fate as she became a young child in service of the Jarl's family, favored in secret by Brynyja who would sneak into the servant's sleeping quarters at night to regale the child with stories of the gods. Despite her lowly status, the child's story quickly spread amongst the servants and slaves who came to love and revere the joyful, ever-helpful girl who was unaware of what was whispered about her

Yet, the girl's fate would not change until she had seen her seventh summer. It was that year that a wandering seeress came to Kjell's hall in need of food and shelter. Once she had been granted a private audience, she asked the Jarl if she could see the child the sea had birthed at the gods' request. Stunned, Kjell could not move or speak for he had never believed anything special of the girl. The seeress once more insisted that the child, who the gods had breathed life into, be brought to her. Brynyja quickly found the girl, dressed in the simple dirtied frock of a servant, and took her to the seeress. The old, wizened oracle cracked a toothless grin as she took the child into her arms. Rocking the child in her grasp, the sacred woman gave a prophecy:

 _The girl shall be named Asta, for she will be a divine beauty_

 _Touched by the gods, worlds will war inside her_

 _And she will suffer and thrive because of it_

 _She will be loved and hated because of it_

The seeress turned the Jarl and looking him in the eye, she finished her prophecy

 _Like her father Njord she will bless you at sea for the sea is her home and the sea is her blood_

 _She is your way forward_

And so Asta, the Orphan of Gävle, was born and whether or not her story was believed, she was both loved and hated because of it.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Asta stood stoically on the docks, unwavering in the chilling winds as her raven locks danced around her beautifully carved face with each mighty gust. Standing absolutely still in a simple cloak of rough-spun wool, modest attire appropriate for someone serving the Jarl's household, she breathed in the briny air. Letting it fill her lungs, the now young woman was soothed by the sound of lapping waves. Always at peace around the water, her sea-green eyes scanned the horizon, out past the edges of the fjord where the open sea was waiting.

Behind her she heard heavy footsteps. Turning she saw Jarl Kjell striding down the dock. Now older and showing signs of his easy, luxurious life the man now carried himself like the warrior he was in his youth – he was proud and purposeful.

"Asta, dear girl!" He bellowed, reaching her with a grin of mischievous and ambition plain on his face.

She greeted her Jarl with a brief bow of her head. "What has you in such a lively mood?" She asked, for it had been a long time since she had seen the man like this. Plagued by squabbling, fool-hardy sons and the lack of adventure and glory, Kjell had fallen into a dreary state for years. The man that stood before her now was a man reborn.

"Have you heard the tales of Ragnar Lothbrok?" He asked.

"Of course," Asta nodded, for the stories of Ragnar Lothbrok, the farmer who sailed West, were well known and were often the talk of choice amongst the servants. _West_ , she herself had often wondered what laid outside the fjords she called home.

"The gods have destined that we go to Ragnar so that we may go West with him!" Jarl Kjell's voice boomed, echoing off the water. "And it has been far too long since I've had a good adventure!"

Asta looked at her Jarl in surprise, having not expected this.

"We?" She asked. "Am I to go?"

Clasping her shoulders in his large weathered hands, he looked the young woman square in the eye. "Yes, you are to sail to Kattegat with me for you have been touched by the gods." Asta stifled a grimace as her Jarl kept speaking. "The seeress told me that you would be my way forward and I saw forward is in the West with Ragnar Lothbrok."

 _Touched by the gods_ , Asta had to bite back a scowl as she forced a small smile. _The child touched by the gods_. The stories were her plague, the stories had stolen her freedom. The stories would make her a pawn in many a man's game.


	2. Chapter 2

Just to note, I am aware that in the show, some are called Earls and other Jarls. I've had discussions with people about this who believe that the History channel used this difference to indicate different regional dialects but to be consistent, they're all going to be called Jarls.

And one more note, Gävle was a site of historical Viking settlement. Located not too far north of Uppsala, it was a trading post in Svealand, the territory North of Gotaland where Jarl Borg and Aslaug are from. (Gotaland being the South end of Sweden). Historically, Svealand (where Uppsala was located) and Gotaland were rivals. In my story, I make Gävle a very important city in Svealand.

 **Chapter Two – Beginnings**

With an offered hand of courtesy extended by one of the warriors, Asta stepped out of the boat and onto the docks of Kattegat, joining the small retinue of Jarl Kjell. Although she always found peace with the sea, her legs were grateful for solid ground. But the journey by sea from Gävle had been easy enough. As summer was swirling into fall, the weather was well and the currents gentle.

As Jarl Kjell stood talking to some men who had come to enquire about the boat of strangers, Asta was busy looking all around, taking in her new surroundings. She had never been outside of Gävle save for one time she was brought to the ceremonies at Uppsala as a young child.

Kattegat was smaller and simpler than Gävle. It was modest but nonetheless earnest. It was a fitting setting for the man who became Jarl. Here was a place of strength and hard work, a nice break from the comforts of too much wealth that suffocated her back home. Nestled between two fjords, Kattegat was composed of small wooden houses and shops scattered around the beaches leading up to the hall. People milled about – warriors and shieldmaidans were sparring, servants went about their chores, older folk stood and stared intermingled with running children and a few men who looked to be of nobility.

As Asta continued gazing, her sea-green eyes met those of a young man – his age evident with a shorter beard. Dressed in intricately woven leather, his body was large and strong and the way he carried himself with confidence made it obvious he was of some importance – or just a cocky young man. Her eyes met his icy blue ones for just a moment before she bashfully drew the hood of her modest traveling cloak over her head.

"Come along, girl!" She heard Kjell's unmistakable baritone voice beckon. Asta had to trot briskly to catch up with the Jarl and his men who had already made it off the dock and up past the beaches.

Following close at heel, Asta kept her head down, reveling – if just briefly – in the freedoms of being unknown, anonymous.

At the entrance of the hall, two men opened the large doors allowing the late day light to stream into the darkened building. With two fingers, Kjell signaled that Asta and two men were to follow him inside. Everyone else was to wait elsewhere.

In the hall, a low fire was burning in the hearth but other than the crackling of embers there was no sound and no movement. Then, from behind a metal lattice, sauntered out a man. Although he was not the tallest, largest warrior she had seen, it was plain as day to Asta that this man was battle-hardened and wise. A descendant of Odin, was what people thought of the man before them. With a slight swagger in his head movement and step, he walked a few circles around the group of newcomers. His blue eyes captured a light of their own as he looked them over.

"I am told you are Jarl Kjell from Svealand." He said in a low, even tone and rhythm, stopping in front of Kjell who, despite his older age, stood taller than the man.

"And I am told you are Jarl Ragnar, the farmer who sailed West." Ragnar nodded with a quick, insincere smile, as if insulted by his past being brought up.

"I heard stories about you when I was a young man." Ragnar said, continuing to pace a bit. "Good tales those stories made."

Kjell just gave a hearty laugh. "Yes, many years ago. I was known as a great warrior and a greater leader that many came to fear."

"And then what happened?" Ragnar asked, now looking over each of the men standing by Kjell. Still hooded, Asta had remained by the doors unsure of what to make of Ragnar Lothbrok and the air he had about him. A noble man who created his status out of blood and courage, he still appeared more a man of innovation and great ideas than a man suited for a throne.

"I became too rich and had too many sons," Kjell explained. Back in Gävle his six entitled sons were like ravenous dogs, ready to eat each other up for the chance at their father's title. For years, Kjell tried to keep them in check but had since grown weary and bored of playing nanny to the foolhardy lot of his children. "Now I want for the glory that only raiding west can bring me."

"So you wish to by my alley?" the Jarl of Kattegat asked.

"Above all else and in light of recent events here, I believe that you're in need of more ships."

Ragnar squinted at the older man. While he remained stoic, Asta could see from her shadows that he was not trusting of Kjell – that he was on edge. On the journey to Kattegat, some of Kjell's men had talked openly to her about Jarl Borg – how he betrayed Ragnar and how he was believed to be held a prisoner. Rumor had it that Ragnar was going to perform the Blood Eagle on his foe. Asta was not suprised. Hailing from Götaland, Jarl Borg had quite the reputation in neighboring Svealand, known as a ruthless mad man who had lost his sanity with the murder of his young bride. Still, the Blood Eagle was a punishment seen by many as too brutal and archaic.

Asta was wondering if Jarl Borg was somewhere in the hall with them when Ragnar took interest in her cloaked figure. "Who is that?" He asked, giving her direction a nod.

"Come here, girl." Kjell beckoned. Hesitantly Asta walked over to them, leaving the comfort she too often found in shadows. Slowly she lowered her hood, exposing herself. She saw instantaneous surprise take over Ragnar's face. It was an affect she knew she had on men and she rarely took comfort in knowing that.

"Is this your wife?" He asked causing Kjell to once more erupt in laughter.

"No, I'm far too old to marry a girl as young as she and have done nothing to deserve a woman of her beauty."

Asta blushed slightly out of her modesty but also out of anger at Kjell's words. Although she knew that he loved her as one loves their children, he was not above toting her around whenever it supported his agendas. _Touched by the gods_ , she became quite a handy tool for him.

"Well she's too pretty to be your daughter, and if she's not your wife then who is she?" Ragnar inquired again, speaking as if she was incapable of speech.

"My name is Asta. I am an orphan that Brynjya, Jarl Kjell's late wife, took in." Ragnar gave an amused, brisk smile at her response. Asta did not know if it was of good or bad meaning.

"An orphan? And what purpose to you serve?" He asked her directly but before Asta could respond, Kjell cleared his throat.

"That is what I'd like to talk with you about… alone."

Ragnar nodded his agreement and Asta joined the men who were leaving the hall.

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

Ragnar watched intently as the young woman followed the others, Kjell's men and some servants, out of the hall. She was beautiful, but he had lived long enough to beware of women with such beauty for they could destroy men much quicker than blade or axe. He had two marriages that had shown him the dangers of women and love.

Once the doors had been closed, he motioned for Kjell to sit across from him at the table. Serving himself, like he was one to do when he did not feel the need to play the role of Jarl, he poured two glasses of mead, handing one to Kjell who took it in earnest.

"So what did you wish to say to me that couldn't be said in front of others?"

Kjell took a lengthy gulp of his drink before clearing his throat.

"It is about the girl. She is more valuable to me and more important than anything you would find in my earldom."

"And what makes an orphan so important?" Ragnar asked.

"Because she has been touched by the gods and oracles have prophesized great things about her."

Ragnar set his drink down and stroked his beard. _Touched by the gods_. She had a face like that of Freyja, he'd give her that, but on matters related to the gods, he was growing skeptical.

"Touched by the gods? What makes the gods favor an orphan?"

"She was found washed ashore on the sea-beaches as a newborn babe after a winter storm. She was found unharmed as if Njord himself, father of Freyja and Freyr, picked her up and carried her safely to the shore where a fisherman found her much like the giant Bor who found the pieces of wood – like Embla, the gods have breathed life into herd," Kjell began as he retold the tale of Asta, how the oracles at Uppsala had predicted her arrival to his late wife and how she came to live as part of his household. With much fervor and theatrics, he told of the wandering seeress who gave her her name, Asta, meaning _divine beauty_ , and that it was foretold that she would be the way forward. He told Ragnar that the girl was blessed by the gods. What he didn't say was that she was to be both blessed and cursed.

Ragnar listened, his face like a stone never showing his real feelings that were telling him that this story was untrue.

"And because she is touched by the gods, you believe what? That she will help us in going west?" He finally asked as Kjell's story telling started to wind down. For what he believed in the gods, he knew that raiding in the west took a great deal more work on his part than believing that he was favored by the gods.

"Yes. As a daughter of Njord, god of the sea, she will calm the waters that we should sail on. Relative to Freyr and Freyja she brings good fortune where she goes."

Ragnar leaned forward over the table, towards Kjell. "What if I don't want her to come, for raids like these have little purpose for a woman who is not a shield maidan or a slave?" He asked.

Mimicking him, Kjell too leaned forward. "I would say that I must insist," Kjell said his faces inches away from Ragnar's. "For I went to a seer not long ago who told me that I must bring her to you. And I must insist that she stay here in Kattegat while I go back to Gävle to prepare my ships."

"Why is that?" Ragnar asked. "Why must my household care for your orphan?"

"Those who the gods have touched are not always loved. She has many enemies, my sons included. They have not looked towards her reputation and the favors I've bestowed upon her with kindness. They grow more jealous by the day and I know that they mean her harm."

Ragnar leaned back, running a hand along his beard. There was absolutely no reason why the girl should not stay in Kattegat other than the trouble that would brew if Aslaug were to catch him looking at her for too long. But yet, he felt as if he did not trust her. _Touched by the gods_ , he knew men who used the gods as an excuse in their pursuits of power. _Have I not been favored by the gods?_ He thought. _Do I not heed the words of the seer? Don't I believe?_

"Oh, come one. She might even be of some use to you, she can cook a little and she's good with medicines and healing," Kjell started, sensing Ragnar's hesitation. "And isn't taking care of an orphan worth the ships I'll bring to you come the beginning of Spring?"

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … …. …. … … … … … … … … … … …

Asta waited outside like she was told to, begrudgingly. She knew what Ragnar and Kjell would be talking about… her. Kjell would try to convince Rangar that she was indeed touched by the gods and that she'd bring him and his exploits good fortune. Her jaw set at the thought. All her life she was shrouded by a mysterious destiny and all her life she was weighted down and haunted by the thought that she would never live up to her fate.

Frustrated, she started kicking at the dirt under her feet, sending a few pebbles flying. Not long ago she had been so excited to sail out of Gävle. The thought of the west, of seeing a new land filled her with such wonder and curiosity that she felt reborn. Now, she was becoming nervous as she felt tides much larger and greater than her start to churn and swell. What was she about to be caught up in?

"And who are you?" a voice asked her. "I saw you come in on the boat?"

Looking up, Asta saw the man she'd made eye contact on the beach with. Up close, his size was definitely that of large. Asta herself was taller for a woman and quite slim. With this man standing so close to her, she felt dwarfed in a sense. And up close, she noticed his handsomely chiseled face.

"I'm the orphan of Gävle, but who wants to know about me?" She asked, letting her irritation get the best of her.

The young man gave her a quizzical, long look. Under his gaze, Asta felt herself becoming uncomfortable and began to yearn for the secrecy of her hood. She learned quickly not to trust the gaze of a man.

"I only meant to ask your name." He spoke as Asta began to take note of his attire. Over a richly colored tunic he wore an intricately woven leather jerkin and a pendant of precious metal hung around his neck. He clothes were rich.

Realizing that this man was of importance, she felt a pang of guilt over her attitude. Kjell would not approve of her diplomatic skills if she insulted someone of importance to the allies he hoped to make.

"Forgive my curtness," she bit out. "It's been a long day. My name is Asta."

"Asta," He said to himself, letting her name slide easily off his tongue. "I like that."

She gave him a small smile. "And who wants to know what my name is?" She asked right back.

"Björn Ragnarson - " Before he could say more, the doors of the hall opened and the look on Kjell's face as he stepped outside told Asta that his talk with Ragnar went well.

Draping a heavy arm over her slender shoulder, he started to pull her away as it dawned on her that the young man was the eldest son of Ragnar. Looking back, she cast him one last glance.

"We have much to talk about regarding your new accommodations!" He bellowed.

Björn watched them go.

* * *

I just want to thank the two readers who left reviews. This is my first fanfiction and I'm quite nervous about it. Just to note, I plan on wrapping up most of the boring background stuff up in the next chapter. I do not plan on making Kjell that important. I intend on having him kind of fade out as the story will come to focus on Asta's life in the world of the show. Thank you for reading!


End file.
